Love is love
by TheWeirdDane
Summary: Both Sweden and Finland are romantics. Sweden in the traditional way, Finland in the more... eccentric way. But as most people know, love comes in many different shapes, sizes and forms and though Finland's may be a bit different, Sweden is absolutely captivated by it. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**I wrote another SuFin-thing. Oops. **

**I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own the characters. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. I don't make any money of this; it is entirely for my own entertaiment and the sake of the fandom.**

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Sweden was a romantic.

If he had always been a romantic or if it had only come when he saw Finland he didn't know. And if he should be completely honest with himself, then it wasn't a big deal to him. He finally knew where he stood after the centuries in which he had been in doubt about his heart. Back in old days he had been cold and he had been a beast. A murderer that only held indifference towards the people he and Denmark and Norway killed. Nothing like compassion flared in his eyes by the thought of the lives he destroyed.

To him, the lives of humans had only mattered because he could get power through them. If they were against him the punishment was simple and given without a second thought. If they were with him he wouldn't touch them, though still keep them at a distance. He didn't go well with humans.

One thing that was for sure: no one had ever loved him. And he had never loved anyone. That was also very much for sure. No one had ever made his heart skip a beat. He had never felt that nervous sweat appear on his forehead when he spoke with someone. Not once had he sensed the flapping wings of the butterflies of love. There hadn't ever been one single person who filled his mind day and night.

No, Sweden had never known love. He had known devotion, yes, he was strongly devoted to Denmark and to Norway and to his own country, his own citizens. But while this was something most people got to feel at least once in their life, this was the one thing Sweden believed was the deepest emotion he would ever feel. He had a natural protectiveness towards Denmark – that idiot always managed to get himself and the others into trouble – and Norway – that guy was small and anxious of strangers – but not for a second had the thought of actual _love_ entered his mind.

The simple thought that there might be a person he wanted to sacrifice himself and everything for was ridiculous. To think that he would stare into only one person's eyes and want nothing more got his lips to twitch in something like a smile. When he tried to imagine the intimacy two lovers shared he would nearly blush. Then he pushed the thoughts away again and kept on doing whatever he had been doing before wonder and perhaps slight curiosity knocked on the door.

But then there was Finland. On a cold winter day they had been roaming new land and they had found a small and weak-looking man sitting by a tree. He had been doing something Sweden didn't get to know before Denmark and Norway had pushed him over, laughed loudly and continued exploring the unfamiliar landscape.

But Sweden had been captivated by the small man. While the others disappeared into a naked forest, Sweden stood still and watched this new person. There was something special about him. An aura, of some sort. It was clear that this was no ordinary human. If he was a country? Sweden had his doubts. The man didn't seem to possess the same ferocity that Denmark had taught him and Norway.

The man got up from the ground and looked around with fear plastered on his pale face. When his eyes found Sweden, they widened and the man opened his mouth to talk. But Sweden didn't understand a word of it. It sounded like nothing he had ever heard before.

Denmark had his tongue and Norway had his and they spoke a tongue Sweden could understand and relate to. In their language they had found solidarity. But here was a person whose words were utterly new and strange to the Swede's ears. Surprised and puzzled, Sweden had done nothing but glare at the other, wondering what he was trying to communicate.

Should he stop him from talking? But what if the other was unfamiliar by Sweden's language? Sweden didn't give it much thought. Instead of speaking – which he already preferred not to, thank you very much – he stepped over to the small man who instantly became silent. The already wide eyes grew even bigger and when Sweden was so close he could distinguish the colour of the stare that met him, the seemingly endless flow of words came back.

The man they would soon learn was the incarnation of Finland was terrified of Sweden already by their first encounter.

This fear lasted for many centuries and even now, when they were comfortably settled, Finland would still yelp when Sweden appeared unexpectedly or when he without a word put a hand on Finland's shoulder.

But back to Sweden and his emotions.

With the Finn came a sudden uncertainty. And truth be told, Sweden was scared. For the very first time in his life, he was anxious and feared for this strange new sensation he had only heard about. He knew that Denmark harboured this odd feeling for Norway and before the hatred between them grew too big, Sweden consulted Denmark about it.

He never should have.

Denmark laughed at him for close to half an hour before he finally wiped his eyes and took the other hand to his chest, trying to calm his breathing. Sweden stared at him without showing how mortifying this felt. Denmark was like a leader but Sweden didn't like being humiliated.

Then he turned surprisingly serious. And they talked. For God knows how many hours, Sweden attempted to explain where his uncertainty lay and why he suddenly felt so weird around another person. He had never been scared of anyone or anything, he had always met rebels and dangerous animals head on, never backing down for a second. Never had he let fear control him.

Yet, here was a person that made him even more silent than he normally was. He felt… odd in this man's company. Finland did something to him that he couldn't explain and he was daunted by it. When he was with Finland, his protectiveness grew stronger and he wouldn't tolerate that anyone got too close to him. If anyone joked about Finland they would be glared down so hard they cowered away.

Denmark listened and Denmark helped Sweden voice the feelings he didn't know how to express.

In the end, the answer was very simple. Or so Denmark said. Sweden wasn't that sure of the simplicity of the answer.

'But you are of course in love with him!' he had exclaimed with a wide grin threatening to split his face in two. Sweden stared at him, not a hint of emotions playing in his face or in his eyes. He didn't wear glasses yet. They first came centuries later when he and Denmark began fighting.

'… Love?' Denmark nodded wildly and ruffled the Swede's hair in that friendly way Sweden had come to hate over the years.

'But why?' He was genuinely confused. What was so special about Finland? He was this small man who was terrified of him and Denmark and Norway. Taking his size into consideration, he was surprisingly strong, yes, and he had some quirky characteristics that put even Denmark off but these things weren't quite the reasons, he believed.

There had to be something more.

He was disappointed when Denmark had been unable to give him a better answer. Denmark had shrugged and told him that this was something Sweden would have to deal with himself. Love was personal and something that only the person(s) involved could figure out. Denmark wasn't one of those so he could only stand by and watch, try to guide Sweden where he knew how to help.

A strange understanding seemed to flow between the two nations in that very moment. Staring into each other's eyes, they both knew that Denmark was right and that Sweden was on his own. Also for the first time in his life, he had to do something alone.

He knew wars and he knew solidarity in those wars.

This was also a war. But one that was completely new to him and he didn't know what to do. He had no idea what his emotions were doing or why they were acting all up when he was together with Finland.

So in truth, Sweden could have been a romantic all his life without knowing. Now he knew, though, and he was fine with it. He didn't have the need to think back on the time where he was almost embarrassingly clueless on the topic 'love'; now he knew what he was doing.

At least most of the time.

However, there were occasions where he would be nervous if he was doing the right things.

One of those occasions was always Valentine's Day. A day that was celebrated around the world and a day that Denmark made a big deal out of, only to Norway's annoyance, yet silent and hidden delight. Because no matter what he said, Sweden knew that Norway didn't mind the extra attention he got on this special day. Denmark was all over him the rest of the year, yes, but this day he managed to be gentlemanly. He treated Norway with respect and dignity that one only rarely got to see. He made sure that Norway had a good time with whatever they were doing and he always asked Norway if he had something in mind, something he was simply dying to do or see.

And while Denmark was impulsive and could prepare the most reckless thing ever for this day, Sweden was a passionate traditionalist.

He did all of the traditional things you associated with Valentine's Day.

The morning started with him making a full breakfast which he and Finland would eat in bed. No matter how many years passed by and this repeated itself, it seemed to please Finland to no end which only made Sweden that much happier.

If Finland had no appointments with his bosses that day, they would spend the many hours before dinner doing whatever they wanted. Sometimes, they went back to sleep after having had breakfast and sometimes, they would go to the zoo. Finland loved the zoo. Sometimes, they watched countless amounts of movies.

And when the time for dinner approached, they dressed up in fancy but comfortable clothes and went out to a fine candlelit dinner at a cosy restaurant, one with silent and romantic live music. Sweden always made sure to make reservations weeks in advance to make sure they could get the same table they always had.

While eating fine food and drinking expensive wine – Finland always brought his own bottle of vodka after getting permission from the staff – they talked about everything and nothing. It was hard for the Swede, though. With butterflies flapping around in his stomach and a perfect Finn in front of him, how could he be anything but flurried? Despite having a good amount of self-control and being hard to sway, he had dropped his fork on more than one occasion. And while his insides had been burning with shame, Finland had giggled. That sweet, adorable sound that could make Sweden's heart soar always managed to leave him nearly breathless.

When they reached dessert, they would both have gotten enough alcohol that the worst boundaries were forgotten and they would actually act like a couple. Until they reached dessert they only behaved like very good friends that simply spent a nice day together. Some people sent them an extra look but they had never been asked if they were a couple. If it ever happened, however, they would tell the truth.

But with the alcohol disappeared boundaries and Finland was always the one to initiate the small touches and it was always Finland who sent the first shy, yet alluring look. Always Finland who flashed that slightly dirty smile that got Sweden's heart to race.

But when Finland started, Sweden followed suit. And he could repay Finland simply by beckoning him closer with a finger and a lowered voice. With the volume of his voice turned down a few notches and Swedish phrases seductively rolling over his lips he had Finland blushing. Following up with a soft peck on his cheek he could always expect to hear Finland's breath hitch in his throat. If he felt daring and went as far as to pat Finland's thigh just once, Finland would turn his head away, face blushing fiercely while his breathing turned faster.

Eating the dessert took longer than the first course and main course combined.

Once they finished dinner they always went to the cinema. The choice of movie was Finland's and he never failed to pick a movie they both found worth watching, except for one time. Sometimes it was a drama or a comedy. Once he had picked a horror movie that had disturbed Sweden while Finland was thrilled. But more often than not, the movie was a romantic one. One of those overly sappy, overly emotional movies almost every young woman seemed to find extremely good. Finland picked them because he liked to compare the characters' relationship to his and Sweden's and then continue to blabber about how stupid the movie actually was and how glad he was to have Sweden while he snuggled close.

Sweden was just glad the room was so dark.

By the end of the movie, they had both grown flustered and they couldn't hide beginning arousal when they looked each other in the eyes after getting out. Exchanging a kiss that only made it worse, they would head home. Normally, they walked unless the weather was unusually chilly. Then they drove. No matter how they got home, they would tease each other with light and swift touches, driving the other mad long before they could do something about it.

However, the touches were never at their private parts. It was a hand running down the spine, a finger sensually brushing over the neck. Their shoulders gently bumping together or their feet "accidentally" nudging each other. Small touches that kept them tense and expectant. Once, it had been too much for Finland who had pushed Sweden into an empty alley and forced him to back up against the wall. Before he had time to ask what in the world Finland was doing – he had plans for them back home – Finland had kissed him wildly and desperately, with fingers that tugged at his jacket like mad, wanting Sweden closer but still caught between him and the wall.

Of course, Sweden had been hopeless but to melt right on the spot. In Finland's grip and with demanding lips all over his own he could do nothing but answer in kin. Greedily, he had pulled the Finn closer, eliciting a throaty moan by the force he always forgot he possessed. Hungering for more of the intimacy he could never be too full of, Sweden had mindlessly begun taking it further than good was. Finland hadn't showed the slightest bit of resistance or unwillingness towards the touches that grew shamelessly private. Quite the opposite, really.

What had made Sweden stop he couldn't remember. If it was a text message or a call from his boss or from Denmark. If they had been caught in the action by a person who wouldn't accept two men making out in a dark and formerly empty alley. Or if he had simply showed a little bit of sanity and had pointed out they couldn't do it here.

Finland had brushed it off. He wanted more and he wanted it now, he had growled, and no matter how hot Finland sounded when he growled, Sweden's common sense had told they should get home.

He got Finland to comply by whispering into his ear while cupping his cheek with one hand, the other gripping his waist.

'Be a good boy and I will put in a good word for you to Santa Claus.' Despite both of them knowing that Finland was Santa Claus, it had worked. The breath hitched in Finland's throat and his fingers tightened in Sweden's hair for a short second before he let go with a shaking exhalation.

The rest of the way home took an agonizingly long time. A whole of ten minutes.

But when they were finally inside, it seemed that Finland for a moment forgot his lust and his intense desire to have Sweden.

Entering their house, he saw what he always did every other year on this day. It never failed to leave him speechless, though.

The fireplace was lit and illuminated the living room in a bright yet dull shine, making the handmade furniture cast long shadows across the soft carpet. Rose petals were spread across the floor, creating a wide trail that lead up the stairs and into their bedroom. But there would never be just one trail.

Another would continue into the living room while a third showed the way to the bathroom. Yet another guided to the kitchen. Candles were placed all around, helping the fireplace in creating a romantic and private atmosphere while soft and sensual music played from a CD player in some corner.

Walking up behind Finland and putting his arms around the slim waist, Sweden would purr alluringly into the Finn's ear, breathing into it on purpose. Asking where his wife would like to go from here on. If Finland had enough self-control he usually let himself be taken to the bedroom. Otherwise, the living room was the preferred choice.

And surely, when they had reached their destination, Sweden would also give Finland chocolate.

How and in which form often varied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I am so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be done in, like, the weekend but I went to a party and then a week's holiday away from home and, most of the time, internet. I have also had a writer's block (again). Ugh. Anyhow, it's finally done!**

**I do not own Hetalia or the characters. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. I only do this for my entertainment and the fandom. **

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Finland was a romantic.

But unlike Sweden, he was pretty sure he had always been. There had just never really been one he could show it to. And unlike Sweden, he wasn't the traditional type. That had been made clear pretty early in their relationship. Sure, he enjoyed a fancy candle lit dinner, and he wouldn't mind a bed or a bathtub covered in red rose petals. Chocolate was cool, too, and who would be stupid enough to say no to a good movie?

Finland could be like that, too. He had once done the same things as Sweden – though in different order just for the hell of it – but it hadn't felt exactly right for him to do so. So he had found some things that he enjoyed a lot and that he was pretty damn sure Sweden would also enjoy.

If not in their pure form, then at least when Finland was with him.

When Finland got to plan Valentine's day, he would never compromise with his manliness. Denmark teased him, asked if he was going to wear a fancy and knee-short dress or something girly like that. Finland had coldly answered that if Denmark didn't shut up that very instant, then he would receive letter bombs in form of burning salmiakki.

Denmark had been wise and didn't mock Finland any further.

In truth, Finland was somewhat fond of the idiotic Dane. He had been a horrible leader, yes, and he was way too hard on Norway and Sweden, agreed, but he had his good sides that Finland enjoyed. He knew when he had gotten too far and though he rarely apologized, he would back down for a while, giving the others time to calm down so they wouldn't rip his head off by their next encounter.

Contrary to popular belief, Denmark could also be very clever. More than once Finland had found himself consulting Denmark about his problems. These problems could be anything – Sweden, getting a point across in an argument, knowing what would taste good in a drink, Sweden, how to deal with Prussia's obnoxious mails and phone calls. And Sweden. More often than not, he had realized, he went to Denmark to know how to handle Sweden.

And, once more contrary to the popular belief, Denmark didn't snort or send him away. Denmark actually listened to what Finland had to say and what his problems were. It made Denmark feel good. He felt like Finland trusted him, coming to him with his troubles. Very few did that. He could remember a time where these roles were reversed – where Sweden was the one to ask about help with Finland.

This always amused him and he couldn't hold back a small smile whenever Finland trusted him with his issues. Oh, if Sweden only knew about this. And if only Finland knew about Sweden.

But Denmark never told. He never let Sweden know that Finland sometimes had troubles with him and didn't know how to communicate a special wish or desire.

Of course, Denmark didn't always give good advice. There had been times where he had tried to convince Finland that showing up at Sweden's place in nothing but knee-high leather boots, tight leather pants and a riding crop would certainly get a point across. Finland could see the logic but he hadn't done it. If he presented himself to Sweden like that, the poor ex-Viking would faint on the spot. And in that kind of situation, that would not be wanted.

Denmark didn't understand Finland's reluctance to carry out this.

It had worked with Norway, after all, he said and winked. Finland had not exactly appreciated the mental images this conversation had provoked his mind to come up with. Nonetheless, he left the Dane a little wiser.

But every other year, on Valentine's Day – Sweden and Finland took turns planning it – where Finland was in control, he would always have some unusual plans. And Sweden would always be surprised and looking almost hesitant by following with him.

First of all of these plans was Finland driving. That was freaky enough that Sweden would cling to the door in hope of survival, praying to the Gods and wondering how Finland could be so relaxed when he drove with one hand resting on the door, the other on his stomach and a foot on the steering wheel. He looked so comfortable that Sweden many times feared he would fall asleep should the speed drop to under 70 kilometers/hour in the city.

When he finally parked the car with screeching wheels by a place far from human civilization, Sweden tumbled out of the vehicle. Staring at Finland in complete disbelief, he got his thumping heart back into his chest along with his lungs. Finland elegantly exited the car after having turned it off. As he stood there, fumbling with a bag and pushing some bangs away from his eyes, he smiled to the Swede who still looked like he had just faced Death.

Finland giggled and rolled his eyes, making Sweden feel like he had taken a blow to the stomach – Finland's giggle was still so very precious to him, even after so many years.

"Really, Swe, it's not that bad. Italy finds it completely normal." Sweden decided he had no comment for that one and instead turned around, feeling his breathing slowly calm down.

They were indeed far from civilization. So far away there was only one real building as far as the eye could see and to Sweden, it looked suspiciously much like a sauna. Next to this big construction was a smaller shed made of pale oak wood. In there were several tables with some big and military-looking boxes. Over them lay two long coats.

His eyes began searching the nearby surroundings of the buildings to try and figure out what they were supposed to do here. He couldn't deny the smouldering excitement that started to grow the more comfortable he became by stepping away from the shiny Fisker Karma. One maybe wouldn't expect Finland to own a fancy or expensive car but that wasn't the case; Finland owned a pretty expensive and luxurious sports car. However, he rarely drove in it. Others usually did. There weren't many people who found it comfortable that he was the one driving. This confused Finland – to him, there was nothing wrong with his way of driving.

Sweden found nothing unusual or anything close to a clue out here. There was the forest on their right side which was pretty empty. The trees were naked and made it easy to see that no animals jumped around. Not even birds sat in the trees and chirped at them. No deer elegantly crossed the frozen ground. It was very silent.

On their left hand were the shed and the sauna-like construction. Sweden had seen enough Finnish saunas to be able to recognize them the instant he saw them. They were insanely popular and used in Finland, after all. It was very common for every household, Tino had told him a long time ago, to have their own sauna somewhere in the house. There was even a traditional sauna day in Finland which surprised Sweden a lot.

Denmark had laughed his ass off when he found out about this, much to Finland's anger and later, Denmark's regret. You shouldn't laugh at Tino's traditions or saunas if you liked the way your bones were put together.

Sweden turned around by the sound of a bag quickly being crumbled together and thrown inside the car. What met his eyes was a sight worthy of worshipping.

People might think that Sweden was absolutely captivated by Finland in some more feminine clothing because of the title 'wife' he had given Finland. Truth was that while Sweden didn't mind seeing Finland wearing short shorts or low-cut T-shirt, he very much liked it when the Finn clearly stated his manliness through his clothing.

Like now, where he wore a suit. The jacket was a stunning black, so dark it nearly shone, with notched lapels and a little breast pocket. It was perfectly placed over an equally dark waistcoat that had a small pocket fitting for a pocket watch. The waistcoat hugged the Finn's body beautifully, showing that even if he was clearly a man, Finland still had a slightly feminine body. Under the waistcoat he wore a snow-white shirt that made a stark contrast against the black garments. On his legs was a pair of pitch-black trousers which ended by a pair of light grey shoes with a small hint of heels.

Sweden stared at the Finn without restraints, like he had never seen anything so enchanting. And really, he hadn't. Finland very rarely wore suit so every time it happened, it had a nearly disturbing effect on the Swede.

He glared so intently at Finland that he actually didn't notice that the man was moving before a small hand grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the shed. A soft chuckle escaped the Finn's lips and made Sweden's cheeks heat up.

Inside the small building, Sweden quickly realized what they were supposed to do in here – shooting.

On the tables, next to the boxes, probably containing tons of ammunition, lay several guns, rifles and pistols. Some of them Sweden could recognize, like the Swedish Mauser – this one being a model 1896 –, the Ak 4 and the TEC9. He assumed the rest of them were Finnish and looked at them shortly before his eyes darted back to Finland who was bending over something in the corner.

Finland grinned but made sure the Swede couldn't see. Instead he wriggled his ass a bit more than necessary, hoping to paralyze him just a little bit. Finland loved it when Sweden was helpless but to stare at him and follow his orders. Not that he ordered Sweden around that often. He was usually too timid for that. But sometimes, he liked to boost his self-confidence and be the boss. And so far, Sweden hadn't minded it.

Standing from the box he had been fumbling with – there hadn't really been a reason for it, it was just for the sake of getting Sweden worked up – he held a pair of gloves he had had in his pocket. He threw them to Sweden who just managed to catch them before they flew outside. Finland couldn't help a slightly smug smile by seeing Sweden's pink cheeks. Seemed his move had worked.

Covering any 'evil' intentions by the sweet cheerfulness of his voice, Finland went on to explain what they would be doing. Of course shooting. That hadn't been hard to figure out. Even Denmark would probably have latched onto it pretty fast.

He noted with immense pleasure how Sweden seemed to be fighting with his mind to keep focus and not let his thoughts stray. The blue eyes were constantly kept on Finland's face, listening carefully to everything the smaller man said and his brain trying to wrap around it, trying not to let the other thoughts take over.

It was Valentine's Day, after all. The anticipation of what would come later was almost getting in the way of his concentration and stoic appearance.

Finland then continued to talk about each of the weapons on the tables. He listed their variants, place and time of origin as well as who had used them and of course what kind of weaponry they were. It showed that Sweden had been right in assuming that the remaining weapons were Finnish. While introducing each one of the guns, rifles and pistols, Tino ran his fingers over them, nearly affectionately stroked them with something close to adoration in his eyes.

"Pick up the Lahti L-35," the Finn then said in a slightly commanding tone, his eyes glistening with mischief. Sweden didn't hesitate for a second. His big hands wandered over the line of weapons and curled carefully around the pistol in question.

Sweden wasn't overly familiar with guns. It was the same as Denmark; they had been born – or whatever you say about countries – and raised in a time where the weapons had been swords and axes and generally primitive. However, he had still managed to get a better grip on then than Denmark who was in constant danger of shooting his own foot off if he got a loaded gun in his hand.

When he stood with the gun in his hand, Sweden looked over at the Finn, awaiting further orders. The metal was cold, even against his gloved fingers, and had a comfortable weight. Tino stared right back at him, the violet eyes seemingly burning into Sweden's blue ones. They held a devious shine and it was with immense satisfaction that Finland noted a sudden nervousness – or was that anticipation? – build up in the stare meeting his own.

He had Sweden completely under his control and he knew it. And by God, did he love it! So just for the sake of it, Finland stepped closer and took Sweden's hand, the one holding the gun. With a silent smile up to the other, he corrected the man's grip.

"Your fingers should touch each other when holding around the handle," he said in a low murmur, the tips of his own fingers unnecessarily brushing over Sweden's and making him take a sharp inhale of air. "Otherwise the grip will be too loose and you will risk dropping it. You don't want that. No, tighter," he added when Sweden's grip still proved too loose. "There you go. Now, turn towards the window and aim for the deer."

They maintained eye contact for a long moment before the Swede did as asked and turned his back to Tino. His eyes searched the empty and white landscape before him, trying to find the mentioned deer. It took him some seconds, probably close to half a minute, but he did find it.

Fate would have it that it was at that very second, when he had just set eyes on the fake animal, that he could feel Finland so close to him that his breath brushed over the his ear. Because of the sudden almost contact, Sweden flinched a bit and the gun went off. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent air, making a flock of birds fly up from their tree with an infernal noise of chirping. Sweden had not anticipated the recoil of the gun and almost staggered backwards, though managed to get a hold of himself before it happened.

Finland just chuckled when he met Sweden's surprised, nearly accusing glare. The face couldn't scare him in this situation. A weird sensation was running through Finland and had done so all day. Like he was suddenly full of self-confidence to a degree he wasn't used to. Like he could take on the entire world.

But Finland wouldn't say that Sweden was his world. That was simply too cheesy. Only Denmark or Prussia would say such things. Even Sweden kept far away from saying stuff like that. He might be cheesy but not that much.

"You missed," he said brightly and turned Sweden's head back to focus with one hand, the other bringing the gun up again. "Take another shot, it's fully loaded."

Sweden did as asked and this time pretended not to notice how close Finland was. But Finland knew that his mere presence had an effect on the Swede. He was suddenly less concentrated even if his stare was completely stiff and focused entirely on the deer. It was nearly possible to _feel_ the change in the man. His hands were steady, still, and so was his aim. When he fired the gun again, this time on purpose, he nearly made a head-shot and got Finland to clap excitedly in his hands.

"Way to go, Swe!" he cheered and pat the man's shoulder a few times before ordering him to put the gun down. The man did as asked, quickly resting the weapon on the table again, almost as if he was afraid to be the fault of an accident.

"Now, take the m/1896," he continued and was genuinely happy to see that Sweden instantly grabbed the weapon with such confidence that it was clear Sweden knew exactly how to handle this. And it would be weird if he didn't. After all, it was one of his weapons. Finland knew it well, too, as it had been used by the Finns during the Winter War and the Continuation War.

"Exactly, and just do the same again." And so Sweden did. This time, there was no need for the Finn to correct the other's grip as it was already as close to perfect as it got. Sweden fired a good portion of shots before Finland decided it was enough.

Then they moved on to the next weapon, this time the TEC9, also a handgun of Swedish origin. However, this version was made in USA. It showed that Sweden still knew it very well. And really, this gun wasn't that hard to grip correctly.

When Sweden had used all of the other weaponries, only one was left. This was Finland's pride and when he introduced it once more, there was a nearly stunning amount of warmth in his voice.

He proceeded to give it to the Swede with utmost care, as if he was afraid to drop it or damage it in any other way. Sweden had looked at it with surprise in his eyes. The rifle was big and looked insanely out of place in such small hands as Finland's. Furthermore, he noted when it was given to him, it was very heavy. He knew that Finland wasn't a weakling like everyone thought him to be but it still seemed weird for him to carry such a heavy weapon.

Sweden had no idea how to handle this. It was way bigger than his own Mauser and it was heavier than the Ak 4. This combined meant that his grip was simply terrible and Finland nearly whined when he saw it.

However, when he went over to assist, it wasn't only to correct the grip. It was also to make the Swede go crazy. As he stood very close to the other, Finland took Sweden's hands and lifted them a bit, made the left move forward while the other was drawn back so that it could rest on the handle. This piece was pulled back so it lightly put a pressure on Sweden's shoulder and Finland carefully, but firmly got the other to bow his head ever so slightly.

It might seem innocent. Nothing wrong in helping Berwald get a secure grip on a weapon that could shoot the head off an adult man, right? But if you looked closer, you would see mischief and lust dance in the violet eyes. You would see the way the fingers dragged over the Swede's hand and head unnecessarily affectionately. And you would see the smug smile that stretched over his face when Sweden swallowed heavily and tried to find focus once more.

Finland was still standing too close for that to really happen. He noticed how Sweden's hands tightened around the rifle when he gave a whispering advice in his ear.

Finland excused the volume of his voice with 'not wanting to disturb the animals' but really, they both knew better.

And Sweden had a hard time waiting. His muscles were tensing and he could feel his shoulders be the worst. Yet, he didn't utter a sound and he didn't show any sign of this. He kept still and focused, listening carefully to what Finland told him and did his best to follow it.

In the end, when all of the guns, rifles and pistols had been fired, Finland happily announced that they would now move on to the sauna, just as Sweden had predicted. They helped each other take the pieces of the weapons apart and put them away in a big box in the correct order, then went out to fetch the completely riddled deer.

Sweden, it showed, had made many head-shots, even with the shooting weapons that he had never tried before. His biggest failure had, maybe naturally enough, been with the last rifle, the Finnish SAKO TRG. With this rifle, Sweden had managed to shoot three holes through the shoulder, the chest and the stomach. Not a single one to the head, much to his disappointment. Finland didn't seem very surprised, though.

"It's a hard rifle to use," he said and picked up the animal. Gesturing to Sweden to just move into the sauna already, he stuffed the deer inside the shed before closing it and sealing it off properly. Finland looked down at himself and his suit, very happy that it hadn't been dirtied. He disliked it when his clothes were dirty, especially the fancy sets. But he would put them on for Sweden because he knew what these kinds of clothes could do to the otherwise calm and stoic man.

And Finland loved having Sweden so helplessly under his control, loved having the power to make one of the biggest and strongest men in the world bow to him and obey his every whim. There were few things better than that. There was no helping it; Finland loved this power. But only rarely would he let it show. It wasn't often that he lifted himself onto the pedestal from which he could control every one of Sweden's movements.

And because of this, because he did it so rarely, they had that much more effect.

Entering the sauna, Finland found Sweden already out of his clothes and sitting on a towel on the bench nearest the stove, looking a bit nervous. He was shifting lightly, as if he was uncomfortable. The blond hair was wet and ruffled, small drops of water running down his face. Finland couldn't help the small smirk that moved over his face.

This was nearly too easy.

Finland got rid of his clothes, neatly folded them and put them on a bench before he took a glass of water and entered the shower cabin, washing himself off. He could feel his skin already begin to tingle with anticipation of the sauna. It was a long time since he had done it, about three or four days. It would be nice to finally feel the hot vapour and the humid air.

Having washed himself off, Finland walked into the sauna with a self-confidence that would surpass even Denmark's. He was practically booming with it and his head was raised a tad higher than normally, his eyes flashing wish mischief and aplomb. All of this, he noticed, got Sweden to widen his eyes the smallest bit. Finland rarely let his incredible believe in himself shine through. But it was yet another thing he always made sure to radiate on this special day. Because it did things to Sweden none would ever believe possible.

A self-confident Finland could turn on Sweden more than zero clothing or big and glistening puppy eyes. They both knew this and Finland knew that Sweden was actually a little embarrassed about it. Embarrassed that such a small thing could have such a major effect on him. For Finland, it was amusing and it was endearing.

Smiling at the Swede, he grabbed the pieces of wood, piled some into the stove and set them on fire. As he waited for the room to get a nice and comfortable temperature he found a towel and put it on the bench next to Sweden.

He sighed deeply as he sat down and leaned back, supporting his weight on his hands. His eyes closed and he drew a heavy breath, taking in the aroma of the sauna as it began to heat up. Birch wood really was the best.

"It's nice to finally do this again, don't you think?" he asked Sweden but didn't look at him. Finland hung his head back and enjoyed the sensation of his tingling skin and the way he could feel Sweden shift beside him. The small grunt that escaped the bigger man was the only response Finland would get.

Nothing was said between them in the time it took for the temperature to slowly raise. When it had reached certain warmth, Finland got up from his towel and took the ladle from a bucket of water which he proceeded to pour over the stones on top of the stove. The sound of the hot stones meeting cold water nearly made his skin erupt in goose bumps and the vapour instantly shot upwards, generating even more heat.

Sweden moved a little bit more. He wasn't used to this sauna-thing yet, not even after so many years. He had always lived in the cold and saunas hadn't really been one of his spare time hobbies. But because he knew how much it meant to Finland he would agree and join him most of the times.

To him, the heat and the humidity felt nearly suffocating. To Finland, it was just fantastic and he relished in the sensation, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. It was so relaxing. The way his skin was heating up, though it would take a little while longer before he would start to perspire. He was hardcore at saunas – which couldn't really come as a surprise – so it always took longer for him than the other nations to feel the true effect. Therefore, he was also always the one to sit on the highest bench in the sauna – here the steam was the thickest and here it was the warmest.

As one could expect, it didn't take long for Sweden to leave the hot and steamy room. Finland was used to this and though he had found it a bit disappointing in the beginning, it was totally fine. Not everyone could handle as long time in here as he.

When he could hear the shower being turned on and the water started running, Finland leaned back against the hot wall behind him, letting a wry smile play over his features. Sweden would love this day. He would love how relaxed his body would be when they got home and he would most certainly love the way it would respond to the next big activity. Finland was sure of it. Not even Sweden could deny the wonders of his saunas. Or his sexual tendencies, for that matter.

Because even though Finland was a small and rather fragile looking man, he could take a bit of each and that also applied to the bedroom. Or wherever he preferred the session to happen. Finland wasn't really shy about the location and neither was he shy about the way he wanted it to happen.

Finland was considering leaving the hot room just when he heard the Swede grumble "Wanna join?" from the dressing room. Tino decided it could be a good idea – not that he was feeling bad or anything, he could easily endure this for many more minutes – and jumped off the towel and padded over the floor to get to the showers.

"In a moment, Ber," he chirped and got the water running. Quickly washing himself off and removing the near-layer of sweat, he hummed quietly and nodded his head in tact with a song that played in his head, skin prickling and tingling with anticipation and beginning relaxation.

When he finished the shower, he slung a towel around his waist and walked outside to find Berwald sitting on a chair on the porch in front of the building. He seemingly didn't have a problem with the sudden cold like many other nations had. Then again, Tino thought as he sat in the bigger man's lap, Sweden was a cold country.

He couldn't help but smirk when he felt the Swede tense a tiny bit before relaxing again.

"You're too worked up, Ber," Finland commented and pat Sweden's shoulder lightly while enjoying the cold and the surroundings. There was snow everywhere, carpeting the ground and the naked branches of the trees. Covering everything in a beautiful white, glistening layer, it enchanted Finland even though he looked at it every day. It never stopped amazing him, never stopped making him feel particularly proud of his country. He loved the snow and the ice, he even loved the cold those things brought with them.

He loved everything about his country and his people, their amazing backbone, their _sisu_, and the strong patriotism they felt for their country.

"Mh," he received whereupon the Swede took a swig of a bottle of water Finland had left out for him.

They stayed out in the nice and cold air until they felt cool enough to go inside again. This time, Sweden knew, the _vihta_ (a bundle of birch branches dipped in water and used to gently flagellate yourself) would be used and though it was actually a rather pleasant experience, he couldn't help but wonder if Finland ever thought of anything _different_ when doing it. He always wondered if Finland ever imagined he was using something else in a different place. A sauna was a place in which you didn't do anything sexual and of course, Sweden had never tried to break that rule. Never.

Denmark had, of course, being the idiot he was. He still had the scars after facing Finland's incredible fury.

As Sweden and Finland stepped inside the sauna again, Finland was the first to remove the towel from his waist, dash over to the highest bench and put it back on the still hot wood. Then he moved to fetch the bunch of birch branches.

Tino was the first to gently slap himself with the vihta, closing his eyes at the pleasant feeling one might not associate with slapping yourself with a bunch of branches. But to Finland, it was very nice and he loved the tingling sensation it left in his skin.

However, he had only done it for a short while before he suddenly felt a big and sweaty hand lock around his own. He opened his eyes in slight confusion, wondering why Sweden would stop him now. Sweden usually never made a move to bat Finland and he also always let the other do it for him. It seemed he had changed his mind today.

There was slight nervousness but also determination to see in the blue eyes and Finland's heart skipped a beat. The vihta was taken out of his hand and before he knew it, Sweden was gently flagellating him with a steady and calm pace.

As if Sweden's former wonder had passed on through the air, a quite not innocent thought reached the Finn's mind, just as the twigs were slapped over his chest. Eye contact between the two was remained and despite Finland having been so much in control up until now, he began sweating for an entirely different reason than the hot steam filling the room. The twigs began creating the well-known tingling sensation but along with it was a slight shivering, a slight feeling of anticipation and the wish, the desire, the _lust _to repeat this action on the Swede.

With a different object, of course. And in a different place. Because you weren't sexual in a sauna.

Yet, wasn't that actually what Sweden was doing now? Was he aware of the feeling he managed to create in Finland's stomach and heart, the way the beating organ sped up and, helped by the gentle slapping, increased the blood circulation?

Finland knew he was. Sweden wasn't stupid, he knew that Finland had some rather… eccentric tendencies that most people would ascribe to Germans.

Finland played along. He quickly regained his composure and flashed a wry grin to the other; something Denmark had taught him. It had more than once reduced Sweden to a nearly begging mess. To show the Dane his gratitude for being taught this trick, Finland regularly shipped him a crate of beer and vodka.

"You can easily do it harder," he said in a hushed voice, nearly a whisper, and stretched his body a bit so more skin could be reached. It was easy to see how Sweden swallowed heavily and his hands tightened slightly around the branches before the hits fell a little harder. Just enough for Finland to find it satisfying.

The silence between them was slightly tense, especially on the Swede's part. It felt weird for him to suddenly be the one to do the 'beating' even though he knew it was completely normal. It changed, however, when he got more accustomed to it and when Finland occasionally told him to move on and lighten or harden the hits. He followed the other man's instructions and Finland once more felt his confidence boom to nearly alarming heights.

This was going to be a good day.

A very good day.

When Finland was satisfied and comfortable they changed places. As always, the Swede couldn't do it on himself and therefore got Finland to assist him (more like do it for him). But contrary to what many other nations (like Denmark and Prussia, just to name some) would have done, Finland didn't do it harder than usual. He might be just a bit turned on but he would never let such a feeling control him and make him do unseemly things to Sweden in a sauna. He just did as he always did, making sure the Swede was enjoying it, too, and making sure that his skin didn't become sore or irritated.

The tension was still in the air when they repeated the cycle a few times, ending with Finland jumping into the snow just outside the sauna and rolling around in it before he lay still in the cold substance for a while, staring up at the blue and clear sky. He was seemingly not at all bothered by the sudden meet with extreme cold after extreme heat. Quite the opposite; he appeared completely at peace as he lied there, breathing heavily and eventually closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt the clear light from the sun be blocked out and he sensed a person crouching above him. He slowly opened his eyes, heart already beginning to speed up again, and found himself face-to-face with Sweden.

The big man stared down at him with surprisingly soft eyes and something close to a smile decorating his normally unmoving face.

It didn't take more than a moment before Finland realized that Sweden was also stark naked, that he hadn't bothered taking on his clothes before joining Finland in the snow. It seemed there was no need for that – he could feel the heat radiate from the other as he crooked his neck and carefully connected them by the lips. As careful as the first kiss they had ever exchanged, Sweden hesitated in continuing but when Finland didn't shout or push him away he let his soft and velvety mouth move with Tino's.

For a moment, they just lay there. Silent, unmoving safe for their lips, and both with closed eyes, Sweden and Finland exchanged yet another of those moments that couldn't be measured or weighed in worth. It was a moment of love as pure as the snow caressing their skin, but far from as new. The snow was new whereas their love was centuries old.

Yet it was still as pure as when it had been young. Yes, they had their bad times, and yes, they had their arguments that would sometimes leave one of them sleeping on the couch or, God forbid it, at another nation's place. Finland had gone to Estonia and Sweden to Norway, leaving their shared house completely empty.

The silence nearly pressed against Finland's eardrums but he felt happier and cleaner than he had done in a long time. He was freer, somehow, felt more at ease with himself. The effect of the sauna was never to be underestimated.

Neither was the love from a caring and affectionate partner.

Finland broke off their kiss with a small sigh and gently pushed Sweden and himself up so they could get their clothes on and continue the day. He only realized how long time this had taken when they reached the city (Sweden had been allowed to drive). Nearly three hours had they spent at the sauna.

They found the restaurant where Finland had booked a table for two a week in advance. As they were seated, they began talking in an unusually quiet tone. The heat and the slight beating had this kind of effect on them, made them both relaxed and quiet – even if tings took a turn when they would get home – and it usually lasted for a day or two afterwards.

During dinner, Finland would begin to focus his mind on exactly he would be doing to Sweden just a few hours later. In truth, he didn't plan things beforehand. He would normally improvise and it had always gone great.

He went through the things they had at home that could be used as substitutes for the equipment they didn't have. Sweden was definitely the more 'normal' type and would never even _consider_ investing in things more hardcore than a blindfold. Maybe a set of handcuff if he felt daring.

Finland, on the other hand, had more than once thought of various other stuff, like a gag. Just a small one, not one of those big and monstrous things that covered the entire face. He had been curious when he had overheard Denmark and Prussia talk about the advantages and disadvantages of a 'muzzle gag'. And of course, curious as he always was, he had looked it up on his phone.

Said phone was thrown out the nearest window with a loud shriek mere seconds later, causing the two men to rush into the room to see what was going on.

But as they sat there, talking and laughing, Sweden didn't stand a chance knowing what the Finn was actually planning. He never did since Tino was spontaneous. It was just one of the things that Sweden loved about him.

They finished eating and went home. When Finland planned their Valentine's Day, they would very rarely see a movie at the theater. He saw that as too traditional and too romantic for him, though he genuinely loved it on Sweden's turns.

Standing outside the door, Finland had managed to make the Swede quiver ever so lightly with anticipation and arousal. His eyes were fastened on the smaller man as the door was opened and he was pulled inside.

It didn't even take four seconds for Finland to find a tight grip in the short blond hair even though he was much shorter than Sweden and he forcefully pulled their faces closer to each other, their stares meeting and fighting a silent battle of which they both knew the outcome.

The fingers tightened in the hair and forced the Swede to bend over more and it was with immense pleasure that Finland heard the breath hitch in Sweden's throat.

"Now," the Finn purred and let his other hand slowly start to unbutton the jacket of his suit, eventually letting it slide to the floor. As his fingers worked on the tie, he continued talking. "I trust you know what is going to happen?" Sweden nodded, helplessly kept under the violet spell Finland had placed upon him.

"And," the tie was pulled over his head, kept in his hand, "I trust you know I will be in charge? From beginning to end."

Sweden nodded again, his eyes momentarily flickering to the tie before being pulled back to let himself fall into glistening, violet pools.

"And of course," Finland's voice lowered but while the commanding tone didn't disappear, a seductive one joined in, as he let the tie gently brush against Sweden's reddened cheeks, "you will obey me and not question me once."

"'course," Sweden croaked, his heart hammering against his rib cage nearly painfully as he stared down at Finland who, despite their physical height difference, seemed the bigger and the stronger at the moment.

A crooked smile slid over Finland's face – one would maybe say that a flicker of madness played in his eyes – and he led the Swede to the living room that was surprisingly light. But Sweden didn't get to see what Finland would do to him.

The tie was pulled over his head and over his eyes, tightened and tied in his neck and thereby working as a blindfold.

"Remember," Finland's voice purred to him just beside his ear, causing chills to run up and down his back, "disobedience will be punished. Are you ready?" Despite his enormous self-confidence he still wore like a five hundred dollar suit he for a moment doubted if that sentence had been over the top. Was that perhaps a bit too much? Would that scare Sweden?

He got chills by the man's answer.

"Yes, master."

* * *

**Okay, in my mind, Finland can compete with Germans in hardcore sex if he had another partner than Sweden (which won't happen, thank you very much). So... yeah. But Sweden is not hardcore, so such a thing won't happen (unfortunately).  
Sisu can be translated to many things, like 'back bone' or 'spine' or 'balls' and so on. Generally meaning you're fucking cool and hardcore.  
Vihta (as explained) is a bunch of branches (preferably birch) you use to flagellate yourself with. Nothing masochistic but to increase blood circulation. Should be good for the skin, too.  
**

**If any Finns - or people with a more than basic knowledge of Finnish saunas and the like - come across this and I have somehow insulted saunas or Finnish culture/tradition or explained something wrong - I am so, so, so sorry. I have done some research and stuff, tried to figure out what to do and what NOT to do in Finnish saunas. **


End file.
